Difference between revisions of "Logs:A Trip to Monaco"

It's been months since Iesaryth has been able to go between, and yet - something has put off a trip back to the Weyr where she was hatched, despite her agitating (as much as she does) for such more or less since she was able to fly. There's been the issues with Ysavaeth, and then her rider's general reluctance to give anyone any ideas about transfers, rumored or otherwise. But one autumn day, when there's an overcast look to ocean's skies, she's all bubbly excitement as the tide rolls out to greet Vhaeryth, to invite them along, south to Monaco. There's fuzzy stolen images flashed; bright birds, flowers, greenery. There's a distinct sense of self-satisfaction stemming from Vhaeryth's general direction, but that transmutes into warmer, more open greeting, the sense of Ruatha's hills and valleys now lying beneath her sea like so many drowned lands. Yes. Yes, they'll come. A pause to poke his rider confirms it, after which he more reluctantly he passes along the question: more formal? informal? bare feet?

That's not all that different than usual, but the quality seems different enough that Iesaryth is intrigued. What's going on there? « Have you done something? » As if he does nothing the rest of the time. Pleased with the flooding, she's quick with her answer - perhaps because she's passing it along before the thoughts are fully formed. « Nothing special. » Informal, then. Bare feet, maybe later.

« I found a new one. 'In the cave, whers lurk, but their teeth are dull.' » Only he doesn't look like a wher, Vhaeryth's gangly teenager, nor wher's treasure. Neither does the half-remembered whitish blob with red hair behind him. « If I want someone, I can take him. Almost always. Him, or her. I must not keep them in my weyr, but that is not so bad. » They would clutter up the place, doesn't she think? « Soon, then. » He passes an image of Monaco as he'd fly to it, in case there are any alterations she'd make: high above the Weyr? Out to sea? Soon, soon, /soon/.

They don't need to /wait/, as much as he might be impatient to join them. Her rider must speak to their Weyrwoman, apparently. Iesaryth offers an image of the Weyr from out above the sea, unsurprisingly - she's eager to skim the waves, to see her clutchmates, though those memories are stolen and fuzzy at best, again. And though she's not terribly impressed with the teenager, she can be impressed by the finding. « I hope they are good for the eggs. And I don't think you would like all of them in your weyr. Unless they were smaller. »

Out there, then: /poof/, cold and then warm with a Southern spring. Waves, waves, a wrinkling of silver that whitens against the shore, and air that smells of salt rather than of ozone. But, « If not now, later, » much in the way his rider's father might speak of stocking fish in the pond. Later. Some other time, that is not now, that he need not fuss about. There's a fleeting sense of a youngish blue dragon that has the indefinable stamp of Hematite, who apparently has told him, « They may be good for drying. » Many of them, with soft towels. It could happen.

Iesaryth is there in nearly the same moment, gliding along the tops of the swells, dragging talons through the warm water. Content to take her time on the way in to shore, despite her initial eagerness to get there already, she's slow to beat her wings, only when necessary. And she might also be a little satisfied herself, because while she's not /much/ bigger than Vhaeryth, she thinks she might just be. So she's magnanimous as they approach the sandy shore, allowing, « Or washing, yes. I can't think of much else. Perhaps I would give them to her. » Because Shan would find a use for aimless minions.

If Vhaeryth /could/ overhear such mental musings, such comparisons of size... perhaps it's happenstance that he doesn't, perhaps it's Iesaryth's keeping her thoughts to herself, perhaps he's willfully blind. Deaf. Certainly he's happy to fly far above, to play at casting her in his shadow if he can, until there's that last swoop to land. But before that, « Does she need help with such things? » he questions, visioning her rider splashing buoyantly with a lineup of helpers, one to hold each grain of sweetsand.

Playing at dodging his shadow right up until she's rather more sedately glided down to land on the beach, Iesaryth isn't one to be concerned with Vhaeryth's apparent blind-- er, deafness, even if it might be selective. It doesn't dim her mood in the least. « No. Other things. » She's not sure of specifics, or her rider is telling her to stop already - and then, there's the distraction of other conversations, though her attention barely wavers. As for Brieli - as she must be here, most places - she's quick enough to get to unbuckling and dismounting in favor of the sand.

Vhaeryth'd be interested, but there's a certain understanding of riderly distractions... not to mention plenty of warm saltwater, some of which he's apt to swipe Iesaryth's way with a scoop-flick of his tail, and here's hoping her rider got out of the way in time. /His/ is glad to be close enough to wave, and then to unfasten Vhaeryth's straps altogether so the dragon can swim once he chooses, the man looping up the leather so he can carry it over his shoulder. "You," N'rov calls Aishani's way. "I hear you need a sudser? Or five."

It's perhaps surprising how /fast/ Aishani can move when there's that water coming her way - well, Iesaryth's way - her hair might get wet! /And/ where there's humidity! The horrors. She dodges, giving Vhaeryth the side-eye briefly before returning N'rov's greeting with a lift of her hand. Iesaryth is not so lucky, but is amused by her rumble. If she didn't have to have /her/ straps dealt with, she'd likely be exacting revenge. The tall, dark girl ditches her jacket before working on that herself, though: "What? What are you talking about? And /hello/." She hasn't been let in on the joke.

N'rov's own wave threatens to become a kiss, once he's near enough, and a whisper into her ear thereafter. "Something about your needing candidates to help you out. With bathing. Because Vhaeryth wants them to dry him off," so evidently the bronze is relaying that much, at least. Progress. He leaves his own jacket on for the moment, Boll-bred for all that he's acclimated somewhat, plus the awkwardness of dealing the straps since he'd done it before. Not to mention the kissing.

Since when does Aishani mind a kiss? The way she returns it might distract both of them from their current occupation, but Iesaryth is pretty impatient to get to the water, for all that she might be talking to who knows how many dragons. After the gold makes an irritated shift of weight, she gets back to it, but grins at the whisper in her ear - as much for the fact that it was relayed at all as for the image. "I don't think that many would fit in my tub," she says, soberly. "But Vhaeryth might be on to something. For her. Though if /you/ want to help with bathing, or drying..." Her tone is clearly an invitation to do so.

"Again? But I did la-ast time," N'rov mock-complains, timbre shifting from intimacy into a whine in just a few short syllables, even if it /is/ still low, still quiet. Back to a warmer sort of tease, "All right. Fine. I'll practice." He looks with interest over her shoulder, then, towards the Weyr beyond. "I suppose you found out where their baths are when you Stood here," as though he wouldn't dream of contemplating that she'd never washed throughout candidacy, but also as though they'd just go take a bath /right/ /there/. But then, maybe that's how Monaco handles their meet-and-greets? He laughs there, under his breath. Vhaeryth's plenty entertained too, caught up in conversation in his own right, with locals and otherwise. And if he splashes into the water before Iesaryth does... well, he /is/ smaller, right?

"Your life is /so/ difficult," Shani sympathizes - though sarcastically, so it doesn't really count, does it? Once she's released Iesaryth from her /prison/, she steps away to let her follow Vhaeryth - though the gold does so without being in a rush about it. Because she didn't want to be first in the water /anyway/. Following the glance up to the Weyr with her own, she arches fine brows, asking, "Do you think there was much I didn't find? And I really don't think that's how I want to be re-introduced." But that doesn't stop her from leaning in for another kiss. Because it's been days, right?

N'rov's still laughing, though he can get out another, "Fine," just because. And it has been days. /Days/. Possibly also hours. Settling some, pausing to set down his straps just long enough to be able to take off his jacket, he then moves to link arms with her. "In that case, what are some good parts you found, that maybe not any visitor would see?" he asks before heading up the trail. "And also, I forgot to ask if I'm supposed to be your boy toy or what." Vhaeryth's splashing, gladly, staying high in the water for now: in the reaches where the sun can find them, not down in the dark trenches. For now.

She's laughing too, though more softly, after they break apart, content enough to not only walk on his arm, but nearly wrap herself around it, moving in close. While there's no one paying attention, at least. Aishani makes a show of considering the question before she has to admit to N'rov, "They actually watched us fairly closely, so not all that much that's interesting. Some good spots to /listen/ and not be seen." As for the other matter, with another laugh, "You're not supposed to be anything, really. I suppose I can just introduce you and people can assume what they like. Though I /do/ have a reputation here, none of this--" Hanging off him as usual. "For a little bit." Let's see how well that works!

He hikes his brows at her, meaningfully: "Sounds promising." /Listening/. "I don't know what I think about that reputation, though," N'rov adds, following her lead when it comes to the actual walking part, though he tends to be unhurried given the warmth so different from Fort's storms just now. "It makes me want to, say, goose you when they aren't looking. But I suppose that would be wrong." Bad and wrong. It still makes him smile, verging more and more into a grin. But, "Anything you want me to know about them before we go in?"

With a little shrug, "I wanted to know what to do. What to say. Oriane interviewed all of us. None of the others - just the eight of us." Shani isn't the sort to do that unprepared, so it only makes sense. And it would be wrong of her to grin at that herself, because the last thing N'rov needs is /encouragement/ - but bright eyes might be encouragement enough. "Why do you want to be an issue, when I was nice enough to let you come along?" Her tone is warm and fond, though. "And... they want to have influence, obviously. Or to have us back. So they're likely to be nice enough - just know that anything you say might be interpreted in that perspective."

"And 'interviewing' means, what? You had to do some sums in 'Records' time," and here N'rov leaves a pause to smirk at her in. "Do some cooking, maybe? Dance... with her, or each other?" He walks a few paces, swinging that arm she's co-opted just a little, one-two-three one-two-three. Somewhat more seriously, "And, well, I don't know. Different people have always had their opinions. I'll try not to reflect poorly on you, at least, or let them get their hopes up too much."

"Yes," she says dryly, with a sidelong look for that smirk. "That. All of it. And a quiz on the Weyr." Aishani twists her own little wry smile for that. She gives a bit of room for the swinging, not all that serious, when she asks, "What are some of the opinions?" But there's more gravity for her last, as she admits, "I'm not really sure what might get their hopes up. Or more interested, for that matter." With a bright grin up at him, "And I know you won't reflect poorly on me. You don't want to know what I'd do if you did." Likely nothing all /that/ bad, by her tone. In the water below, Iesaryth starts diving to follow fish, curious where they go off to - splashing at Vhaeryth on the way down.

"Hmm. Have you done any reviewing? Because they might see just what your retetntion's like," N'rov mock-threatens, leaning to drop a kiss into her hair before his eyes lift, surveying the ascent beyond them. "And in that case, I won't worry... make that, I won't worry when I'm not busy quivering in fear." In case it really /is/ awfully scarily bad, after all. As for opinions," and likely he's slowly getting closer to his dragon if he's distracted by Vhaeryth's not so much splashing back as blowing great big bubbles after Iesaryth's tail. "My mother would say, 'He gets it honestly,' and give my father such a look. But she was smiling, so that's all right, I figure."

With a mock-frightened expression for the mock-threat, Aishani pulls him in a bit closer at that kiss, tilting her head up to return it on his cheek, his lips briefly - despite the fact that it might slow things down even further. For the interviewing, she'll allow, "It was more like a discussion. And to get a sense of my loyalties, no doubt. It went rather well." Though she's a skeptical glance for his supposed quivering, there's a little laugh - as much for the bubbles Iesaryth can't see, but can /sense/ as she swims away - as the distraction, and what comes after. "It sounds as if she didn't mind all that much. You do have your charms to make up for it."

"You keep doing that and we'll never make it there," N'rov assures Aishani quite happily, though his pace doesn't slow more than a beat or two, long enough to lengthen that kiss or at least give it a good try. "One or two charms. And, I imagine it would have. Gone well. Speaking of loyalties, though... I wondered, how will you know when you've gotten done what you wanted to?" His tone's somehow pensive, and he's smiling down to her even so, tucking her that much closer. At least, if they can manage that and not trip. Vhaeryth needn't deal with such things, at least: he has water, and speed, even if he does have to go up for another breath of air now that he's wasted so much of it. Still, it's worth it! and down he goes again, this time not blowing bubbles but booming hollowly as though it could echo off her barely-larger form.

"Oh no," Shani says, sounding not at all concerned about making it there at the moment. Not with a longer kiss, being tucked in close against N'rov's side. "Just a few," she agrees soberly, though the way she's looking up at him is entirely contrary to his supposedly limited charms. "And yes, I can give a good enough impression when I feel like it. And..." That question has her considering - at least, enough to give a glance or two along the path, to avoid that tripping. She can't look away from that smile for long. "I don't know. I don't know if it's something that you're /done/ with." Iesaryth's not burdened with these thoughts, distracted by booming enough to lose her fish, to turn and swim at Vhaeryth, as if she might retaliate for it.

"Did it start out that way? Something to be done with." Vhaeryth's got his maw open wide, as though maybe Iesaryth will get smaller and smaller as she hurries closer and closer, and he could swallow her whole. What are the chances? N'rov, though, he slows, because there are steps ahead, and they'll likely require a little more focus... unless her plan is that they both trip, break their legs, and get stuck at Monaco for the interim. Steps, and then likely people, and impressions to be made other than of a young and possibly foolishly doting pair.

She has to consider that too. For all it's not a very serious conversation, it's causing Aishani to look serious enough - at least, for the moment. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she looks up at him to admit, "I don't think I really knew what I was planning to do, specifically. Just that... I needed to do something to balance the scales. Maybe I'll know it when I see it." A pause, before hesitantly, "Do you think there's anything wrong with that?" And breaking legs and being stuck at Monaco could be interesting, but wouldn't likely help with impressions here or at home. She'll reluctantly unwind herself a little, if only to ensure there's no death.

Possibly the chances of death are reduced given that she's not sitting on the stairs, yet, nor is it a hatching cavern. Yet. Even as N'rov studies her expression, he links his fingers in with hers, so she's unwound but doesn't feel too far away. He asks, "With not knowing it until you see it? Or with wanting to put your finger on the scales?"

Yet. But now? It's less likely that she'll be shoving him down them. Winding her fingers in his, tightening her hold on his hand, Shani watches him watch her, expression softening, dark eyes on his grey. Sincerely, "With not knowing it till I see it. I'd like to think if you had a problem with me making things right--" 'Right'. "That you would have told me a long time ago."

"I'm all for you making things right," N'rov says, and the change in her demeanor can't help but bring out his smile. That change, but also what she has to say, and that she's saying it. He offers, "I just like... plans, I suppose. /And/ flying by the seat of my pants, I'll admit it, but something like that, it helps to have an idea. It would help me, at least. Maybe it's easier for you if you don't."

"I like plans too," Aishani protests - as if he's said something horrible, like she's against ice cream, or puppies. Or planning and vengeance, in this case. "I've made plans for so long... And what? How can you like both?" She's only distracted by that briefly, before she considers what he has to say, her hand still tight around his. And she'll admit, "Maybe it's easier. And maybe I'm afraid what you'll think of me if I say what I really want."

N'rov got a quick grin at her protest, all right, and he starts to speak but Aishani goes on and all he can do is interject, "It's a defect in my character, I know." That, and then fall silent for a time, listening. In the end he glances up and down the path, and he says in a low voice, "Let's talk another time. All right? I don't want to... distress you. Especially now." With Monaco, waiting to size her right up, and her not-so-little dragon, too.

With an arch of brows, "Defect. Or maybe it's better. Not to be married to either. Neither can paralyze you." And maybe that's what Aishani likes so much about N'rov, something she said long ago - that he would /do/ something. And though her expression is still a bit troubled, he's the right idea - her brown eyes are suspiciously bright. For but a moment. "All right," she murmurs, fingers finally loosening, her hand easier in his. "You're right." Unprovoked, and sincere - something to remember. After another quick, gentle kiss, she'll start up the stairs with him. In the Weyr beyond, there's definitely a lot of /interest/ in her visit, in what's happening at home, if people are actually discussing the changes they say - some of which she confirms or denies or is vague about, depending - but 'Brieli' is always, always receptive and interested, for all she talks about not giving anyone ideas. And maybe she'll lobby for a bit more time on the beach before going back to rain and cooler weather.